Lutte Contre l'Incendie
by Kitten Kisses
Summary: FE7. A collection of Kent/Lyn drabbles for the 365Drabbles community on LiveJournal. 018: "Proper Etiquette". Kent tries to teach Lyndis the different types of silverware...
1. 001: Sparks

**Lutte Contre l'Incendie  
By: Manna

* * *

  
**

…_**xOx…**_

**001: Sparks**

He heard Sain compare love to a spark, once. He said that when it catches, it grows and grows and grows until it becomes a raging fire.

That part might be true, maybe. He can't be entirely sure; he has no way of knowing, no lover to boast about (though even if he did have one, he would most certainly not boast about it). He can't bring forth previous experiences as references. He has nothing, knows nothing about the subject.

But it doesn't feel right to compare eternal love to something they stomp out every morning before continuing on their journey.

Fires die out. If love dies out, what would a person be left with?

He wonders.

"Good morning, Kent." It's _her_, _her _voice. She sits next to him, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

"Good morning, milady," he replies.

She yawns, making a futile attempt to cover her mouth.

Love can't die out; it just wouldn't make any sense. If love died, a person would be left with…what? Nothing, he thinks. They would be left with absolutely nothing. His eyes notice the still-glowing embers in the fire from the night before and his mind comes to a screeching halt.

Maybe Sain is right.

He turns his gaze back to Lyndis and stifles a smile as she yawns again. As long as fuel is added, a fire will continue burning.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

This is for the 365Drabbles community on LiveJournal.

I know I'm already doing _Every Color of the Rainbow_, but I don't like putting excessively short things there. I feel like I'm being cheap or something. All of these should be under 500 words long. The title is French and translates to something like _Fighting Against the Fire_/_Fighting Fire_.

Thanks for reading, you know I would appreciate feedback.


	2. 002: Duty

**Lutte Contre l'Incendie  
By: Manna**

**

* * *

  
**

**…_xOx…_**

**002: Duty**

Kent was a natural-born worrier.

Everyone was graced with some kind of talent, and apparently, the ability to worry incessantly about anything and everything was his. It was a blessing in disguise for quite a few people, most notably his best friend.

Sain would tell him not to worry, but then the man's sword would snap in half in the very next battle.

Kent would be ready, though, with a spare. Worry forced him to be prepared for just about anything.

He worried about one thing more than any other, more than Sain's inability to remember to carry a spare sword, more than the fact that his horse needed new shoes as soon as possible, and certainly more than anything pertaining to himself or his life.

Lady Lyndis's safety came before all else.

It wasn't just about her technically being royalty anymore. No, it was much more than that, more than he could even admit to himself because she deserved better than him.

To let himself think otherwise would be dangerous for both of them.

So he stayed by her side every possible minute of every day, and when she wanted to know why he hovered, why he was always there, he didn't tell her the entire truth. He wanted to, more than anything in the world, but his tongue couldn't form the word _love_, and it would be safer to speak a partial truth.

_Duty_ was an easy word to say by comparison.

He couldn't tell her that he had fallen for her, and that every day he was with her was the happiest day of his life despite the fact that he continued to fall harder and faster and with so much intensity that the only other way he could accomplish such a rush would be to throw himself off of one of Castle Caelin's towers.

The disappointment in her eyes when she heard that damnable word made his chest ache. But, he thought, he was only good at one thing, and that was worrying. So he left it at that, at _duty_, knowing that she couldn't hear the underlying emotion in the way he spoke the word because he wouldn't even let himself hear it. If he let himself hope, if he opened his heart and let her inside, eventually they would both be hurt.

Kent worried about one thing more than any other—the safety of the woman he loved.

He refused to let anyone cause her harm.

Not even himself.

_**...xOx...**_

**Author Notes:**

I don't really have anything to say about this one. Feedback is much appreciated, though.


	3. 003: Perfect Fit

**Lutte Contre l'Incendie  
By: Manna

* * *

  
**

…**xOx…**

**003: Perfect Fit**

She fit in his arms perfectly.

For one short, fleeting moment, his arms had been wrapped around her waist, her chest had been pushed up against his, and her nose had been buried in his shoulder.

She laughed, her red face evidence of her embarrassment at stumbling after dismounting her horse. He could tell by the dark circles under her eyes that she was exhausted.

She shouldn't be fighting in a war, he told himself, but then he immediately corrected his thought as she wobbled on her feet and slowly lowered herself to the ground with a sigh. She shouldn't _have_ to fight in a war. She shouldn't have to fight at all. She should be back in Caelin. She would be safe, there. She would be treated well, fed well, and she would want for nothing.

Her boots were in terrible shape, but they couldn't afford new ones because there were so many others whose shoes had holes in them, too. She had scars she never would have had if she had stayed behind the castle walls.

_He_ should be fighting her battles for her.

She would never let him.

She sighed again and used her hands to move her legs to a more comfortable position. He knew it was because of her shoes, because the leather was worn down and warped thanks to too many marches through the rain.

He kneeled next to her, wanting to help but not knowing what he could possibly do. He hated seeing her hurt, even if it was something that had nothing to do with him.

"I'm okay," she told him, her tone reassuring though her smile seemed almost forced.

"You're in pain." His heart constricted in his chest when her expression turned sheepish. "Here, let me help," he said, his face flushed with embarrassment, his eyes steeled with determination as his fingers gently took hold of the heel of her travel-worn boot before tugging it free of her foot.

His fingers refused to let go of her foot, especially when he noticed the bright red blisters here and there.

"Lady Lyndis…" His voice was whispery, soft. He found himself wanting to take her in his arms. She fit there, perfectly. But that wouldn't help her, and it certainly wouldn't calm the erratic _pitter-patter_ of his heart against his rib cage. "Why didn't you say anything?"

She struggled for a moment to get on her knees before she leaned over and hugged him, her cheek resting against his. Almost reluctantly, his arms circled her and held her there with a feather-light touch. She shifted slightly and he felt her lips brush against his ear and her breath against his neck. She reached over and took hold of one of his boots in a gentle grip. "The same reason you didn't say anything," she whispered, before poking her finger through one of the holes in the toe of his boot.

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

This was so cute. I had a blast writing it, and I hope you enjoyed reading it. This is for all of the Kent/Lyn fans out there~!


	4. 004: Best Man

**Best Man****  
By: Manna

* * *

**

**_...xOx..._  
**

_No right_, he thought to himself as he stared into the fire. He had absolutely no right to Lady Lyndis, and for that matter, neither did anyone else.

No one—no mere man—could ever treat her right, the way she deserved to be treated.

Hector might have fancied her, but he wasn't patient enough. He snapped at her and insulted her and didn't even realize that he was hurting her in the process. Insensitive? Perhaps. But Lyndis would never approve of a stone-walled castle and maids hovering about her for the rest of her life, and Hector could not—and probably would not—leave his home to go to hers.

Eliwood was a kind, considerate man, and… Kent might have approved of him, thought him worthy of the hand of a woman like Lady Lyndis, but Eliwood loved another. Ninian was beautiful and graceful in ways that Lyndis would never be. And Kent would never stand to see her marry a man who couldn't give her his heart—all of it.

Rath…was too quiet, too much of a loner. He didn't know how to listen to her—to Lyndis? To a woman? Kent was not sure—and he didn't act as if he wanted to. He seemed taken with her, though, watching her when she wasn't looking, smiling when he thought no one would notice. He never looked happy, though, with her. Just…accepting, and that would never be enough.

Kent.

He stopped his train of thought and shook his head as he stoked the fire to keep it going.

Kent always listened to her when she spoke to him, his heart had belonged to her for so long that he doubted he could call it his own anymore, and he would follow her forever, to whatever land she wanted to live her life in.

But he didn't have the familiarity that Rath's Sacaen heritage offered, or the gentleness that Eliwood possessed, or even the sensitivity that he criticized Lord Hector for not having.

He could give her nothing, only himself, and that would never be good enough. What right would he have, anyway, he thought, to offer something so…so bland, so boring, so plain? It would be no different than offering St. Elimine a rock that he had suddenly found at his feet as if it were a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

They had no right, no right at all. She deserved perfection, and none of them could say they were perfect.

No one was, though, nor could they be.

_So_, he thought as he got to his feet and went to wake her—as he did most mornings—_may the best man win_.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

This is totally biased, seeing as how it's from Kent's point of view, but there you have it.


	5. 005: Hero

**Hero****  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The air was heavy, and it smelled of both blood and metal.

They were two very different things, but they had similar taste, and they were too often seen together, he thought vaguely to himself as he pulled her into his arms. She hardly responded at all to his presence, his touch, or even the words he uttered under his breath in the hopes that they would bring about some kind of miracle.

If this were a full-out war, with all of Caelin's troops being led by Lady Lyndis, he'd certainly be named a war hero. He'd probably even receive the rank and status to marry her, having saved her life so gallantly.

But she was bleeding, and so he did not allow his mind to linger in the company of such trivial thoughts.

He didn't know how to make the blood stop.

Sain wanted to be a knight in shining armor, a hero, adored by men and women alike.

Kent wanted to know how he could make her eyes open again, how he could breathe some strength, some _life_ into her now-slack fingers.

She groaned, and he nearly cried to have his ears blessed with such a beautiful sound. He told her that he loved her, and he felt his shirt being fisted loosely in her hand.

He didn't want to be a hero.

He just wanted to save her life.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Short, sweet, and to the point.


	6. 006: Want To

**Want To****  
By: Manna

* * *

**

**…_xOx…_**

He only has to do his job, and that is making certain that Lady Lyndis stays safe.

She smiles at him, and his heart flutters just the smallest bit in his chest because of it, but he doesn't need that feeling. He doesn't need her attention, her kindness, her _affection_, and the fact that she seems to only bestow it upon him—her ever-faithful, loyal vassal—baffles him, leaves him confused and uncertain. Such feelings only hinder him, keep him from doing what it is that he has to do, or so he tells himself, sometimes.

Her eyes are bright, and she bids him a good morning in the way only Lady Lyndis can, her hair a mess, mid-stretch, mid-yawn.

All those years of training, he thinks, and not once did they cover how a knight ought to act in the presence of a liege so beautiful. He's convinced that no other woman can ever compare to her, now.

He doesn't need to smile back at her.

He doesn't need to approach her.

And he doesn't _need_ to squeeze her hand when she laces her fingers through his.

But he wants to, and so he does.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Pointless cute crap to slowly rot your mind. :D


	7. 007: Recipe For Happiness

**Recipe For Happiness****  
By: Manna

* * *

**

**_...xOx..._**

**

* * *

**

_**-2 hearts  
****-2 lives  
****-2 minds  
-2 cups love  
-1 tbsp mixed spices  
-a sprinkle of trouble  
-a dash of determination

* * *

**_

How cruel is it, to put two people together who aren't allowed to love one another! How cruel, St. Elimine! How unfair! What a paradox, a twisted, seeping, soiled mess, to let us love one another, to let us bask in the glory of love…only to pull us apart!

That is what Sain would say, but Kent just stares at the wall in silence, his breathing even and soft.

* * *

_Pour hearts, lives, and minds into large bowl. Stir until well blended.

* * *

_

He loves her more than life itself, but he supposes that some things just aren't meant to be. Lord Hausen, _of all people_, who had given him his position as Knight Commander, refuses to bless his plea for Lyndis's hand in marriage.

* * *

_Sift the two cups of love, adding it slowly to the mixture. Stir until smooth.

* * *

_

It hurts, that someone who regrets a similar, past mistake, does not regret tearing her away from him. She said she'd talk to him, but he doubts that any minds will be changed, that anything good can come of what has already been ruined.

* * *

_Add the mixed spices. One tablespoon is only a recommendation—spice to taste!

* * *

_

His fingers work at his temples, doing nothing to ease his anxious headache. It would be a good idea, he'd thought, to tell Lord Hausen everything; he hadn't expected it to backfire so terribly. Not after everything they've been through.

* * *

_Add a sprinkle of trouble, and a dash of determination. Stir until the trouble is hard to see, and the determination has changed the color of the entire mixture.

* * *

_

Lyndis steps into the room, and he looks up from his place on the bed, his hair tousled and his brown eyes worried. She shakes her head.

* * *

_Bake until it looks done.

* * *

_

He sighs and shakes his own in response.

"Don't worry," she tells him. "He might have said no, but that doesn't mean that we can't be together."

_It doesn't?_ he thinks, but the words don't quite reach his lips, and he tilts his head to the side, his expression questioning.

"If you still want me." She's teasing and scoffing at the same time as she causes further grief to his already-mussed hair before bothering to straighten it again. "I wish that he had agreed, but I don't need anyone's permission to marry the man I love."

* * *

_Insert a knife; if it comes out clean, it's done.

* * *

_

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes: **

Don't ask. I've always wanted to write one of these. There are a few hidden meanings, I guess, though they shouldn't be very hard to find or understand.


	8. 008: Leap of Faith

**Leap of Faith****  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

Lyndis—no, just Lyn, _plain old Lyn_, now—watched the sun go down at the edge of the plains with a quiet kind of remorse in her expression. The shades of orange and red turned the grass a burnished gold; it was a sight that she never tired of seeing.

But something was missing. Had been missing, for too long, now.

She hadn't had the strength, the courage—or perhaps the _faith_—to think that she would be enough to pull him away from his beloved duty to Caelin. She knew that he cared for her, so maybe she had been wrong to think so negatively, but it wasn't easy to ask someone to leave everything; it wasn't easy to be selfish.

He was still back in Caelin, and he was alone. She had left, and Sain before her, so nobody was there to make him leave the castle, to insist that he take a break, to ask for his company during a quiet evening walk.

A few years had passed since she'd held him and whispered her goodbyes; a chaste kiss had been her last gift to the both of them. She wondered what he'd think if she showed up again, if she asked him to leave his life and everything he knew. So much time wasted, she thought idly as darkness settled over the plains.

She fell asleep and dreamed of him, again, of his hand in hers as he helped her up, his arms around her and his quiet, stressed voice as he begged her to hold on, and his mussed, rain-soaked hair during a march.

In the morning, she leapt on the back of her horse and headed southwest.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes: **

Lyndis is very selfless, I think. Also, Caelin is southwest of Sacae, hence the last line.


	9. 009: Small World

**Small World  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

She had fallen in love with him long ago, years and years ago, it seemed, when her world was small, and he was one of the only people in it.

His hair drew her to him, first. It was so unusual, so strange. On the vast plains of Sacae, she'd never seen anything like it. She quickly grew to respect him for who he was, and from that, trust and friendship sprouted; it wasn't long before love bloomed.

He was hard to read, though, and difficult to understand. It didn't bother her too much—after all, her tribe had been full of men who were quieter, _much quieter_, and she considered Rath, who hardly knew how to say two words to her, a friend.

But Kent was different. He was someone that she wanted desperately to know.

He was a challenge, a puzzle, one that she was determined to win, to solve. The prize was well worth the effort.

So that year in Caelin, when she still had some measure of freedom, she watched him train the new recruits. She knew she made him uncomfortable under her attentive gaze—he had no idea that she was really there to watch _him_, and not his work.

When Laus invaded, she insisted that he flee with her instead of staying to fight. She couldn't tell him that the thought of him dying for her—or for Caelin—hurt her too much to let him stay.

During the war, she made it a point to talk to him every single day, even if all she could think of was a _Hello, how are you?_ Or just, _Good morning_.

Gradually, he started to open up to her, sharing more information without being prodded to, and answering her questions with more than the required, _Yes, milady_, or _No, milady_.

She knew his shell had cracked when he called her Lyndis, forgetting her title completely for one instant. She'd made it a point to be by his side, but whenever she couldn't be, it seemed he was at hers.

So she asked him why he stayed.

His answer disappointed her.

And for the first time in a long time, she went several days without speaking to him, without stopping him to ask how he was doing, without wishing him a good morning. She'd tried so hard, and it hadn't been enough.

Then he came to her, said he wanted to answer her question of why he was always at her side, and she was afraid; she told him to leave her alone. She couldn't stand to be hurt again so soon, especially not by him.

But he took her hand and wouldn't let her go. He was there because he wanted to be, not because he had to be, he said.

So when they returned to Caelin after the war, they decided to meet in the stables early every morning, before the eastern sky was bright, and they rode to the hill that looked toward Sacae to watch the sun rise over a world that consisted of only the two of them.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

This one feels disconnected, somehow. Hm.


	10. 010: The Man Most Despised

**The Man Most Despised****  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

Kent hated Rath.

Just like any other human being, Kent was capable of emotion—though Sain tended to say otherwise for laughs—even hate.

He was not proud of his great dislike for the other man. No, Kent couldn't be proud of that. It wasn't right to hate someone that hadn't actually done anything wrong.

Maybe he didn't even hate Rath so much as he hated that Lady Lyndis paid attention to him. She paid attention to _everyone_, from Nino to Florina to Lord Eliwood. None of those people posed a threat to him, though. Only Rath seemed to. Only _Rath_ looked Sacaen, only _Rath_ reminded his liege of her family and her past, and only _Rath_ could promise her a future in Sacae without ever saying anything at all, without ever having to sacrifice anything.

But Rath didn't know much about Sacae, his past was so clouded and mysterious that Kent didn't feel he was really trustworthy.

Rath didn't talk.

Rath didn't even want people to talk to him, and Lyn was no exception. He liked the quiet. He liked being alone. He'd probably been born that way.

Kent would happily listen to anything Lyndis said; he loved the sound of her voice.

And her, _he loved her_, everything about her…

He couldn't tell if she was just being nice to Rath, or if she actually liked him. He couldn't tell if she felt a connection to him that was simply one of common heritage, or one that had romantic inclinations.

He didn't even know how she felt about him, her loyal retainer, a knight sworn to serve her that would do so even if it wasn't something he had to do, a man that would sacrifice everything he knew to be with her.

Giving up everything didn't mean he was deserving of her, though. No, her love and affection were things he had to fight to keep. It was a battle he couldn't afford to lose, and his opponent, the only man who was close enough to Lady Lyndis to take her away from him, was Rath.

So Kent hated Rath.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Hate might be a strong word, but... I think that in Kent's eyes, Rath would be the biggest rival for Lyn's affection.


	11. 011: On a Clear Night

**On a Clear Night**  
**By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

He preferred to sleep close to her, and it wasn't long before she noticed. He was most likely watching out for her—as he always did—but the knowledge still left her curiosity piqued and her heart fluttering just the smallest bit.

She'd always found him attractive—for a Lycian man, she'd say to him teasingly, and he'd flush and look uncomfortable for a long time afterward—but he had so many wonderful qualities that it wasn't long before she started to wonder if she was falling in love with him.

On clear nights, the army never bothered to set up tents. They took a long time to erect, and even longer to dismantle. Bedrolls were more convenient and simple to pack up. They also gave her an idea, a small, devious thought.

Why not do something fun? Why not see how he might react to her acting a little out of turn?

So one night, when the moon was full and the sky clear, she waited until he took his turn at watch and moved her bedroll beside his. They rotated in three hour shifts—they had enough people to do so, after all—and she waited patiently for his return, pretending to sleep the entire time.

The time passed as it normally did, and she was genuinely drifting off by the time he came back. The _clink_ of his armor as he unbuckled it and set it aside told her where he was standing, and the sudden silence let her know that he had seen her.

"Lady Lyndis," he murmured, and she heard a soft cracking sound as he crouched down next to her. "What are you doing?"

Being asleep, of course, meant that she couldn't answer him, and she continued to play her game, twisting her head slightly at the sound of his voice, as if it disturbed her rest.

He sighed and patted the top of her head, his fingertips brushing through her bangs. "The others will talk if they see this," he said, and she wanted to tell him that she really didn't give a damn what the others thought or said, but she said nothing, and he soon took his hand back, only to give hers a light squeeze.

Her grandfather, while abed and dreadfully ill from poison, had been able to squeeze her hand back in his sleep, so she had no qualms about doing the same to Kent's. He seemed to think for a moment before he gave her fingers another squeeze and drew back reluctantly—at least, she'd like to think that he was hesitant to let go of her hand.

He shuffled around, and she thought that he would move his bedroll away, since she had invaded his space, but he didn't. She had made sure to leave space between them, of course—she didn't want to scare him off—but she did wonder if maybe she was too close to him.

"Good night, milady," he whispered after he had settled in. He sounded exhausted.

Automatically and without thinking, she answered him, "Good night, Kent."

The sharp exhale of breath from his nose told her he knew everything. She smiled slightly to herself and moved her hand to the space between them.

He didn't take her hand right away. In fact, he didn't say or do anything at all.

The next morning, though, the first thing she noticed was that his fingers were laced through hers.

* * *

**Author Notes:**

This was fun to write.


	12. 012: All the Little Things

**All the Little Things  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

Kent loved Lyn, and consequently, he loved everything about her, too.

She was beautiful, smart, wise, and most of all, kind. She was worth loving. He could love her for the rest of his life and never, ever regret it.

But he wished she wouldn't smile at him, not the one that made her eyes seem bright. Sometimes he fooled himself into thinking he saw love there.

He wished she wouldn't touch his arm when she spoke to him. It made it hard for him to answer.

He wished she wouldn't seek him out during balls. He wanted to ask her to dance, and that was exactly what she was avoiding.

He wished she wouldn't call his name when she came looking for him. The way she said it made him happy.

He wished she wouldn't stand so close. Kissing her would be too easy to do.

He wished she wouldn't bring him food while he was working, or a wet cloth after he finished training. He wished she wouldn't let that strand of hair hang in her face. He wished she wouldn't let her eyelashes flutter like that when she looked up at him. He wished she wouldn't hug him impulsively. He wished she wouldn't ask him to go to the hill with her. He wished she wouldn't fall asleep with her head on his shoulder.

He loved her, all of her, but all of the little things she did that he loved, were things that got his hopes up.

He wished she wasn't going back to Sacae.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Kent's clueless, yes.


	13. 013: Don't Tell

**Don't Tell  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

"Please don't tell Kent about this," Lyndis said to Serra as the younger girl helped pull a bandage tight around her arm.

"I won't tell," she promised. "But don't use this for a couple of weeks, at least. You stressed the bone, you know. It'll be easy to break."

"I'll do that," she said, getting to her feet before flashing Serra a bright smile. "Thank you. For this—" she held up her arm, "—and for not telling Kent. He'll somehow think it's his fault that I jumped in front of that thunder spell and frightened his horse."

"You're lucky it only knocked rocks loose, and not worse."

"I'm lucky that Kent escaped harm."

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

"Please don't tell Lady Lyndis about this," Kent said to Lucius as the other man helped pull a bandage tight around his ankle.

"I won't tell," he promised. "But don't use this very much for a couple weeks, at least. You stressed the bone…it'll break easily, now."

"I understand," he said, getting to his feet before giving Lucius a grateful nod. "Thank you, for this—" he gestured to his ankle, "—and for not saying anything to Lady Lyndis. She'll somehow think it's her fault that I jumped from the back of my horse."

"You're lucky you only twisted it, landing in those loose rocks like you did."

"I'm lucky that Lady Lyndis escaped harm."

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

Both Kent and Lady Lyndis exited at the same time. It just so happened that Lucius and Serra's tents were side by side.

"It's my fault," they said at the same time, noticing the other's bandages.

"Both our faults?" Lyndis asked, laughing quietly as she hugged him with one arm.

"No one's fault," he answered, returning her embrace.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

I wanted to add more, but I couldn't think of the proper way to phrase it and actually end the story at the same time. I think it ended on a well-enough note, though.


	14. 014: Sound of a Heart Breaking

**Sound of a Heart Breaking  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

She's never felt so trapped in all of her life. It's as if a stone wall's been erected on every side, forcing her to stand completely still.

She hates it, this life, this _nonexistence_ that everyone in Caelin seems to think is just the opposite. They tell her that she should be happy, that she should be having fun, that she should love silk dresses and fine jewelry and wine.

She doesn't, though; she's not a materialistic person.

But she has so much _stuff_, and that's all it is, just _stuff_. Things she never asked for, but that she's been forced to accept. Etiquette demands that she accept everything, doesn't it? Gifts and barbed insults and backhanded compliments.

There was a time when she loved Caelin, but she's growing to resent it.

She's broken out of her thoughts by Kent, who's turned the corner. He comes up short, startled by her sudden presence and the tears she knows he can see swimming in her eyes. She's headed to another meeting, another game of fixing someone else's life, another day that will leave her feeling even more worthless than the day before.

Before coming to Caelin, she believed in herself, but she's starting to lose that hope.

All the formalities sting, because she knows that's all they are. Nobody _really_ thinks she's a lady, but for Lord Hausen's sake, they use it before her name, as if it'll make her a lady, as if they _hope_ it will change her into what she needs to—ought to—has to—be.

"Lyn…" he starts, but he quickly steels his gaze and snaps right back into the position of Knight Commander, a man without time for himself, let alone her. "_Lady_ Lyndis."

She thinks she feels her heart breaking.

"Are you all right, milady?" But his posture is stiff and he's hiding the concern in his eyes behind a mask of respect.

Respect? She wants to laugh, but her throat closes up and she blinks furiously to try and push back the tears that threaten to spill down her cheeks. "I'm fine," she says, the sound whispery and soft, the voice of a lady, not the Sacaen mongrel that she truly is.

She knows he wants to say something, wants to take her arm, her shoulder, her heart.

But he doesn't do anything. He just stands there. "As you say."

And that's what hurts most of all.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

It had to be written.


	15. 015: Kissing Game

**Kissing Game **  
**By: Manna

* * *

**

**…---…---…**

He was silent as he knelt beside her. Her eyes were closed and her muscles slack as she slept; she didn't seem to notice his presence as he hovered over her, simply watching.

His fingers reached out, almost hesitantly, to brush a strand of hair out of her eyes. She shifted slightly in her sleep, her legs curling up as her fingers tightened their grip on the edge of her single blanket. He smiled and tucked the excess hair behind her ear, letting his hand trace the outside edge of her ear before traveling down to her jaw.

She stirred noticeably at his gentle touch, and reached out blindly to swat at him, her hand coming into contact with the side of his neck. He smiled slightly as she groaned and tried to force her eyes to open.

Her lips curled upward as she gazed at him sleepily. "Busted," she murmured, her syllables slurred together so badly he could hardly understand her. She turned onto her back and let both arms rest on either side of his neck before she pulled him down, closer to her, forcing him to use one of his hands to keep from falling on top of her. "Hello there…"

He had the good graces to blush just the smallest bit, but he did nothing to detach her from him. "Hello." His hand hadn't moved from her face, and he brushed his thumb over her cheek.

She stretched her legs and back carefully before pulling his face down to her level. It wasn't long before her lips found his, and he let himself enjoy those few moments before she pulled away, as she always did. He followed her, of course, as she expected him to, intent on feeling the warmth of her lips beneath his just once more.

But when he pulled away, she wouldn't let him—it was some sort of strange game they had begun to play, he supposed. He had no problem playing along, so long as they didn't get caught at it, and under the cover of darkness, they were most assuredly free of prying eyes.

In her attempt to get closer to him, though, her thumb pressed into the inside of his elbow, and his arm buckled. He fell against her and she bit back a gasp—of pain, no doubt.

"Lyndis!" he found himself saying, and she swallowed before she shook her head and flashed him a tired smile.

"Shh," she scolded. "You'll wake everyone." She pulled his head against her neck and hugged him gently. "You need to get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day. I heard Mark and Eliwood say that we're marching from sunup until after dark…to make up for lost time."

He lifted himself up and allowed himself one last kiss. Victory was his this round, he thought as he brushed back her bangs. "Good night, Lyndis," he whispered before he got to his feet and walked the six feet to his own bedroll.

* * *

**…---…---…**

**Author Notes:**

What. Random. Plotless. Crap. The world needs more of this. Or not.


	16. 016: Going Together

**Going Together**  
**By: Manna

* * *

**

**…---…---…**

The feeling of her hands in his was one that he never tired of, and his fingertips lightly brushed against the calloused pads of her fingers as he reluctantly loosened his grip.

"We had best return to camp before the others become suspicious," he murmured, and he felt the cool evening air against his hands and face as he stepped away from her warmth and into his role.

He hated to do it to her; sneaking around as if they were common criminals was something he loathed, but what choice did they have? Though they didn't know it, the others had the power to pull him away from her, and she from him. Theirs was a secret best kept safe.

Her hand touched his sleeve, but she said nothing. She knew as well as he did what could become of them.

"I'll go back first," he told her in a whisper.

She blinked at him, and though her gaze was level, he saw a hint of sorrow in her eyes.

A trace of it always lingered there.

He forced himself to continue to look at her.

"I told you that I wanted you near me _always_."

He swallowed. "But, we—" To look away was impossible. Her eyes held him captive.

"You promised," she purred, wrapping her arms around his neck with a tantalizing slowness that left him feeling bewildered and torn. The softness of her lips brushed against his jaw. "You _promised_."

"I…" he said, but it sounded pathetic when compared to the strong beat of his heart as it hammered against his ribcage. He finally thought to wrap his arms around her as a faint blush settled across his cheeks. What could be the harm in a few more minutes together? Weeks could pass before they would have another chance. His thoughts shattered as she pressed a kiss against his throat. His tongue felt thick as he swallowed again. "I did," he finally admitted.

She suddenly ducked out of his embrace and flashed him a brilliant smile. He found his hand in hers and he found himself walking after her, his knees feeling terribly stiff and his mind left whirling.

"Good," she said, though he could scarcely hear her over the buzzing of his thoughts. "Then let's go back together."

* * *

**…---…---…**

**Author Notes:**

This one was for Qieru.


	17. 017: Straightforward

**Straightforward  
By: Manna

* * *

**

**…---…---…**

Kent of Caelin was not gifted with many talents.

He sighed and poked at the fire in front of him with a long stick to keep it going. Lady Lyndis had fallen quite ill the week before, and rather than risk infecting everyone else—because really, how well would they fight if they were _all_ sick?—she had opted to stay behind and catch up later.

He had chosen to stay with her, of course. As a knight and as…a…friend…it would not do to leave her alone.

Now she was doing better, and even though she was not quite back to her usual energetic self, she had insisted they move to catch up. (Though two people on horseback could move much faster than thirty-some-odd people, it also made them easy targets. Kent did not disparage his ability to protect Lady Lyndis, but he knew he would feel much more at ease when they were back with the others.)

It was early in the morning, and his lady liege was still sleeping. Though he despaired at having to wake her when she was still not fully healed, he did so anyway, leaning over her to gently shake her while speaking her name.

Guilt gnawed at him when she opened her eyes and regarded him sleepily. Her nose was still red and the first thing she did was pull a handkerchief—which, he remembered, was actually his own—from where it was tucked in her sash to blow her nose. Maybe he should have let her sleep…just a little bit longer. She had looked so peaceful…

"Goo' mornin' Kent," she mumbled.

He couldn't help but smile just a little bit. "Good morning, Lady Lyndis." It was a long moment before he remembered that he was attempting—note: _attempting_—to make something for their breakfast. "Are you hungry?" he asked without thinking.

There really was no hiding the fact that he was cooking. He had a small iron skillet he had borrowed from Merlinus, and there were strange-looking lumps inside.

Lady Lyndis's eyes widened with curiosity, and she tucked her borrowed handkerchief back into her sash as she leaned closer to him. "You cooked? For me?"

"Y-Yes…" He suddenly felt…very out of place. He didn't really know _how_ to cook, but he was certain that she was tired of eating dried meat and nuts—things they had been practically living on for months. The evening before, he had gotten some eggs from a farm they had passed by, and the same farmer had also offered him a freshly killed rooster for a very reasonable price.

…Whatever it was in the skillet didn't quite resemble chicken or eggs, though.

"Well, let's eat," she said.

Lady Lyndis was always very straightforward. She would never lie. If she thought it was terrible, she would tell him, right?

She seemed to have trouble swallowing the food, and he wasn't sure if it was because the food was bad, or because her throat was so swollen and sore. He flushed. It probably wasn't because of her throat.

"I… I apologize, milady." He bowed his head. "It is…bad, is it not?" He had only wanted to do something helpful for her, but… Ah, he obviously had no talent for cooking.

"I know you had the best of intentions…doing all this for me." she finally managed to swallow her first bite, and then her hand gently squeezed his shoulder. "Kent, I never lie…"

"Yes, milady."

"But…"

He inclined his head, daring to look up at her. She was gazing at him quite seriously. "But…?"

Her eyes softened, "But I really want to…"

* * *

**…---…---…**

**Author Notes:**

A little longer than I had intended, but this one is for the lovely Qieru, whose birthday is today!


	18. 018: Just Enough

**Just Enough **  
**By: Manna

* * *

**

**…-…-…**

He kissed her while she slept.

Instantly it became one of his biggest regrets. Despite his guilty conscience, he pulled away slowly, until he was looking down at her again. Her lips had been soft and yielding in her relaxed state, something that both bothered and fascinated him.

He thought that he ought to leave her side—that she was, by no fault of her own, too tempting—and he wondered to himself as he gently brushed her bangs back from her forehead, how much more time would pass before he could take it no longer.

It hadn't been intentional—the kiss. It had simply _happened_, and he realized that the phrase suddenly made sense to him. All the times previous he'd heard it spoken, he had scoffed at it, disbelieving. Things didn't _just happen_, after all. Actions were carried out because of thoughts or emotions.

And yes, he had not been wrong—but things _could_ happen, and something _had._

He hadn't known what he was doing until it was too late, until his lips had pressed against hers, feather-light at first, but soon with more pressure. Just enough to feel. Just enough to _know_ what it might be like to kiss her, though she didn't respond at all. He hadn't expected her to.

He bit his bottom lip, his chest clenching with anxiety as he watched her breathe.

He hadn't meant to.

The scratch across her cheek had begun to scab over, and it felt rough, even to his calloused hands.

_He hadn't meant to_.

"I'm sorry, Lady Lyndis," he said, and his voice sounded too loud.

She stirred at the sound, perhaps due to the fact that he had so often called for her to wake. "Hmm?" she asked as she opened bleary eyes to find his fingers still brushing against her face.

He couldn't bring himself to look away.

She seemed to regard his presence with something akin to curiosity, and her wide, oh-so-innocent, unsuspecting eyes, made him apologize again.

She placed her own hand over his. "It's just a scratch, Kent," she murmured. "It's not your fault."

She didn't know, didn't understand, but she deserved to.

Could he tell her? Could he look her in the eye and admit he had been shamefully tempted and had not resisted? He watched her with a worried expression tugging at his features.

She shifted and pulled his hand away from her face, giving it a gentle squeeze. "If it's forgiveness you need, then you're forgiven."

He could say nothing, even as she pressed her lips against the back of his hand and settled back down to return to her dreams.

In the morning, then, he would tell her that he had done something shameful, that he hadn't even given her the option to say no. Never had he felt so terrible about anything, he could add, and would she please forgiven him, even though he wasn't worthy of such generosity?

* * *

**…-…-…**

**Author Notes:**

There are all kinds of complications that come along with a situation like this. I suppose he should be glad she actually _was_ asleep.


	19. 019: Proper Etiquette

**Luttre Contre l'Incendie****  
By: Manna

* * *

**

**…-…-…**

**019: Proper Etiquette**

"So," Lyn began as she pointed to various silverware pieces spread out across the table, "this one is for…meat, and this for desserts, and this for greens—"

"Salad," Kent interrupted. He shifted in his position beside her. The last few days had mostly consisted of him trying to teach her etiquette.

She was _not_ a fast learner.

"Sal-add?" she tried saying. "What kind of a word is that?" When he didn't refute her, she shrugged and shook her head. "Fine. Meat, dessert, sal-add…" She stared at the next one. It was a fork like all the others, and as far as she was concerned, they all looked the same. "Bread?" she guessed.

"Fish," he corrected.

Her hand fisted in annoyance. "But I thought _this_ one was for meat!" she said, eyes flashing as she pointed to the first fork in the lineup.

"It is. There is a separate one for fish." He felt a little sorry for her. She had gone from using no silverware to having to learn multiple types. He felt lucky that he (and the other knights in the barracks) didn't have to use more than one kind of each utensil.

She breathed in through her mouth, and out through her nose. Very slowly. She wasn't upset with Kent—she had stolen him from his duties for the third day in a row, after all, and he was most helpful—but the process of learning so much useless information was enough to make her want to stomp her foot. At least.

She refused to resort to such childish antics.

The last thing she wanted was Kent thinking her even more dimwitted than he likely already did.

"Let's try the spoons," he offered, and unwrapped them from the silk napkin that held them. He laid them across the table in a random order.

"Okay, this one is for soup," she said, feeling relatively certain. When he nodded, she smiled a little to herself and pointed to another. "Uhm." She realized she had no idea what it was. When she could hear the servants murmuring in the silence of her pause, she laid her forehead on the edge of the oak table in frustration.

Kent, sensing as much, touched her hand for a moment. "Lady Lyndis, if you'd prefer, we can continue this tomorrow?"

She picked her head up and blinked at him. She looked so very tired. "I don't know what it is," she said. "Please tell me."

His answer was automatic. "Custard."

Her head hit the stump again, this time with an accompanying _thud_. "I don't even know what that is!"

He opened his mouth to explain, but decided against it. "Lady Lyndis…"

"You're right, we should stop for today." She sighed and after a moment, stretched. "Thank you for putting up with me," she said. "I know you have better things to be doing."

He wondered at her choice of words, and then chose his carefully. "I wish to be nowhere else." He felt his face burn just the smallest bit, and hope it did not show. "If…milady wishes it, perhaps…"

"Perhaps what?" She tilted her head to the side just the slightest bit.

"Do you think you might prefer to study outside tomorrow?" He almost added _weather permitting_ onto the end of the sentence, but realized any escape from the dull interior of the castle would do her some bit of good.

She smiled at him brightly. "I would like that very much," she said, her fingers reaching out to squeeze his before she spotted her grandfather entering the dining room, and left to greet him.

* * *

**…-…-…**

**Author Notes:**

A little long, but whatever. Qieru gave me this cute idea.


End file.
